The Slippers
by ThineClementine
Summary: Hiei can't stand it any longer and just has to ask. But will he be able to understand Kurama's answer? Intended yaoi, fluff ahoy, KuramaxHiei oneshot


**Summary:** Hiei can't stand it any longer and just has to ask. But will he be able to understand Kurama's answer? Intended yaoi, fluff ahoy, KuramaxHiei oneshot

**Rating:** PG-13 for Hiei's potty mouth

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but these words.

**What in the world is this?** I'm truly sorry, but this really just sort of appeared out of nowhere on my computer. I'm not really sure WHAT I was thinking when I wrote this. The idea seemed great when it wasn't in written form, now it's just... I'm not happy with some of it, is all. The ending was not at all what I was planning in the beginning (not that I WAS planning anything in the beginning, I just went with it as it got father along) and is truly too sweet for the stomach, and the middle is just a mess of filler. But I'm bored and I always wanted to post something Yu Yu Hakusho that isn't a crossover and has Hiei being a cute little confused demon. So here you go. Please don't shoot me.

**The Slippers**

Every time Hiei was forced to enter the Minamino household, be it by weather or preference, They were the first thing he noticed. Always present, They seemed to hold some power over him. More often then not, he found himself frowning.

They were nothing special, really. Nothing more than a pair of ratty old slippers that might have been a deep royal green at one time, they now sat always at the doorway of Kurama's room as if waiting to be worn even though they were obviously meant for a child's feet. They weren't particularly well made or nice, just an average pair of slippers that had been bought and then embroidered by hand. Though some of the strings were frayed or loose, Hiei easily recognized the red thread to form two roses on either slipper, in bloom or in bud form. It would have taken a human hours, maybe days, to finish.

Something about them rubbed sandpaper against Hiei's natural demon curiosity until, one day, as the Fox was doing his human school's work, Hiei had to ask.

The conversation had started as usual.

"Is there something bothering you, Hiei?" The Fox had asked, somehow knowing, as usual, that something was on Hiei's mind.

"Hn," and a pause during which Kurama finished a paper and supplanted it with another. And then, "why do you keep those?"

Head lifting from his work, Kurama's gaze had followed Hiei's eyes to The Slippers that sat innocently in the dying sunset's light, mocking him with their pointlessness.

"Oh? Is that what's been bothering you all this time?" Kurama had the audacity to chuckle, laughing at his expense. Hiei growled wordlessly.

"It's simple, really. I keep them because my mother, my human Kaasan, gave them to me. They were the first gift from her that I ever really appreciated." Kurama then set down his pencil and turned in his chair to face the fire demon perched on his window sill. "Why?"

"They're too small and falling apart. Useless."

"I don't keep them because I need them or use them."

"Why, then?" Hiei challenged.

The Fox fell silent and lowered his eyes, obviously deep in thought.

"There's no reason to keep them," Hiei persisted.

"But there is," Kurama said.

Hiei merely blinked large burgundy eyes at him.

"Why?" He asked, a bit petulantly.

Kurama sighed. Standing, he wandered aimlessly over to the subject of their entire conversation. Lifting them almost delicately from the polished wood, he strolled over to stand next to his closest friend. Then, he lowered himself down onto the other side of the windowsill so their eyes were even (a move Hiei recognized as putting them as equals; if Kurama had remained standing, he would have been towering over Hiei, which could be considered a show of dominance in the Makai), he held them out. Hiei took them with equal delicacy, as if they were contaminated with some potentially contagious germ.

"I suppose," Kurama said finally, "I keep them because they mean something to me. My Kaasan made them when I was nine in human years. I'm not quite sure how, but she somehow realized my love, or at least my affinity, for roses and made these for my birthday."

"So?" Hiei grunted.

"So," The Fox chuckled, "She embroidered these roses herself." He flicked fingertips over the slightly shimmering thread. "She spent days working on them, hours and hours of hard work all for me, her ungrateful, unappreciative, and cold son."

There was a moment of silence.

"You don't understand."

"Hn."

Kurama ran a hand through his hair and heaved a great sigh like one Hiei had never heard him give before.

"Hiei," he sounded exasperated, "I'm not sure how else I can explain it. These slippers aren't useful to me in any significant way. I can't wear them anymore, and you're right when you say they're falling apart. But... well, they're sort of like a momentum to remind me of how unworthy I am."

Hiei tilted his head infinitesimally to the side as if asking a question. Kurama smiled warmly.

"She poured her heart into making these. It reminds me of how much she loved me long before I loved her, and how she continues to love me. Keeping them... it's my way of thanking her. I know that, whenever she sees them, she smiles. And I do, too. It's... quaint, to know I'm cherished so deeply by this human woman. It's still such a new experience to me, as a demon, to be loved. And these slippers mark my first stirrings of that emotion. They're special because she poured her heart into making them, special enough to cherish forever. You see?"

Absently, Kurama fiddled with a stray lock of his rose red hair before tucking it behind his ear. He accepted the slippers back from a silent Hiei.

"Well? Do you understand now, Hiei?"

Hiei didn't. How could a pair of dingy old slippers have so much meaning? What was it that gave them that mysterious quality, so worthy that they were kept even now? Love? Heart? Hiei frowned out the window, puzzled and frustrated by his ignorance. Was the Fox so much greater than him that he could understand what Hiei couldn't? Unacceptable. Impossible. Human emotions were a weakness, so he was better off not knowing.

But as a demon, he was naturally curious, especially about things he couldn't understand...

"Hn." Hiei shifted to face the window more fully, signaling that their conversation was over.

Shaking his head, Kurama chuckled softly under his breath before returning his slippers to their rightful place and returning to his homework.

"Well, I tried." And silence fell.

Hiei spent the next hour brooding and still couldn't come upon an answer.

((((((((((((()

In the next month, The Slippers never came up again, though Hiei continued to puzzle over them in the same way a fish puzzles over dry land or man puzzles over the Moon (for Hiei had never learned of humans setting foot on the Moon and should anyone tell him, he would merely scoff with some amount of scorn. Really! Humans on the Moon!). And though he puzzled and puzzled until his puzzler was sore, he never understand them or the Fox and his reasoning.

He finally began to get the beginnings of an answer one day when he arrived to the Fox's human home to find Kurama was still in human school, tutoring some poor fool. Seeing as it was raining, Hiei entered through his usual window and settled down to wait out the storm in dry warmth.

After ten minutes of watching the rain pound against the glass, loud and obviously human footsteps creaked up the stairs. The door squealed on its hinges.

"Oh, Hiei-kun! I didn't know you were here. I didn't even hear you come in!"

Hiei glanced up to find Kurama's human mother Shiori standing in an old apron. She was smiling.

"Shuuichi won't be back for another hour. Is there anything I can do for you, though?"

Maybe he was still curious, or maybe it was because the slippers were sitting right there, but Hiei quite suddenly did something very un-Hiei-ish. Instead of answering in his usual way, he asked a question of his own.

"Hn. You made those slippers?" He nodded towards the objects of his current annoyance.

Confusion for only a moment.

"Yes, I did. I assume Shuuichi told you? I made them for his ninth birthday. I'm surprised he still keeps them, really." And glad. It was unspoken, but Hiei saw it in the tilt of her mouth. Frowned. Since when did he understand humans?

A pause and a whim.

"Hn. Show me."

Shiori blinked in surprise.

"How to sew?"

Hiei nodded minutely. The smile that was sent his way confused him.

"Alright. Come down stairs, I've still got my sewing kit in the closet."

And that was how Hiei began taking sewing lessons from a human woman. Every day, during the extra hour while Kurama was busy tutoring at his human school, Hiei would slip silently in to the Minamino house, this time through the front door, and he and this astounding, tiny little woman would sit in the living room and work with needles. Somehow, on the first day, Shiori read something on Hiei's face and said, as the time for Kurama to return was closing in, that she would be sure not to tell her son of their lessons. With his usual 'Hn', Hiei had left for Kurama's room.

She kept her promise and, everyday, Kurama would come home to find his mother cooking in the kitchen and Hiei in his usual spot. And life went on. Hiei continued to be bored with life in the Human World.

Except, that is, for that strange hour he spent in the Minamino living room, pricking his finger on humans' needles and cursing in Makai dialect under his breath. He soon found that his speed meant nothing and that this was an art that called for teeth gritting slowness and an attention to detail that his sword arts also called for. It took patience that he seldom had, and so much skill that it surprised him. A mere human art that he couldn't master? Stubborn, he worked his hardest.

Either way, his first two weeks were full of frustration and annoyance. The menial task of sewing, a feminine past time that he was vaguely mortified to practice, seemed to evade his sharp mind and deft hands. He refused, though, to admit defeat in the face of a human activity and a human female. He soldiered on, determined to master this new skill, and it paid off.

Soon, Shiori was complimenting him on his work and Hiei found himself arriving sooner and sooner to silently help Shiori in the kitchen, stirring pots and retrieving bowls or plates from cabinets before she could even ask. And if she had asked, Hiei probably would have said no. But she didn't ask, for his help or his reason for helping, and Hiei never said anything nor did he give the urge a second thought. That thought path led to a dead end he wasn't ready to reach.

After their odd escapades in the kitchen, as if on a silent cue, the two would drift into the living room and pull the sewing kit out from the closet. Shiori would work silently, a small smile on her face and needle precise. Every few minutes, she would glance over and quietly give tips, instructions, or even compliments depending how well (or not) Hiei was doing.

It was strange. Novel. Hiei was a creature of destruction. His element, his lifestyle, his skills, they were all focused on destroying things. But for the first time in his violent, blood stained life, his hands were making instead of killing.

Either way, it was something he was nearly ashamed of learning. And he felt foolish all the way up until he one night when he realized he could work this new, unusual, embarrassing hobby for his own gain. Two weeks later, his old cloak was replaced with a new one, black with a red inner lining and a dragon embroidered in shimmering black thread on the back.

When Kurama asked about its appearance, Hiei had replied simply with his usual "Hn," though Kurama would have later sworn that he had seemed a bit smug...

Meetings continued and, as he continued to get better and thus bored with the activity, Hiei began to wonder at his own aims.

It wasn't until two months later that he realized just why he was doing what he was.

"Hiei-kun," Shiori said one day while she was embroidering a handkerchief, "Shuuichi's birthday is coming up very soon. Did you know? Only two weeks, now, until he turns seventeen." She sighed almost sadly. "My little Shuuichi is getting so old..."

Hiei was no longer listening. The same feeling, the same inexplainable urge to do something unreasonable, had come over him the moment she said those words. But what was this urge telling him to do?

He got his answer to that, and much more, that night.

That night, Hiei dreamed. Usually, Hiei dreamed of blood stained struggles and growing up with the thieves, of an icy land and of being tossed off the floating Isle of Koorime.

This time, though, was different. His dream was not filled with anger or sorrow or, gods forbid, fear, but a sort of... warmth. As a fire demon, Hiei knew warmth, but this kind of glow was not one he could associate with a flame. It was something different and delicate.

When he awoke, all he remembered was a necklace being pressed into his tiny, waving fist before he had been banished to die on the land below Koorime and the familiar warmth it brought.

Hiei sat silently in the dim morning light, the air thickened with human smog and pollution, high within the branches of a Ningenkai tree. With his most treasured possession in hand, his Hiruseki necklace that his mother cried for him, he contemplated that strange feeling from his dreams, so clear then and now nestled deep in his chest. It had always been there whenever he looked at his Hiruseki; when he had been a child, he had clutched at it greedily on the most terrifying of nights. It was the one thing he had ever appreciated and cherished. It was his treasure, from his mother, that evanescant figure he could hardly remember.

And quite suddenly, he clearly remembered those dirty, dank little slippers that the Fox's mother (albeit his human one) made for him, and suddenly some things seemed to make sense. Hiei stood, and disappeared from his tree branch with all determination.

Two weeks later, Hiei, for the first time since he had begun his absurdness, didn't show up to help Shiori in the kitchen, nor did he show up when it was time for his lesson, nor did he show up afterwards when Kurama got home.

The Fox didn't think anything of it at first. The day outside was warm and clear, the kind of day that Kurama knew Hiei spent out training in some obscure forest, or even just sleeping in a tree. It being his human birthday shouldn't change anything.

And so he spent his time after school with his mother, eating a specially made dinner that had been surprisingly plentiful. He hadn't realized why until Yusuke, Keiko, Kuwabara, Botan, Shizuru, and Yukina stopped by and they all ate dinner together. He received a large amount of presents and was pleasantly surprised by many of them. Eventually, long after it got dark, his friends left and he and his mother sat down and he received a present personally from her. It was a beautiful red handkerchief with hand done embroidery. He thanked her profusely; it had become a tradition for her to give him hand made gifts ever since that fateful birthday gift, and this one had to be the most elaborate and beautiful of them all.

But as he was dressing for bed and brushing his hair out, he couldn't help but feel a bit... empty. As he laid down, the lights turned out, he realized why.

Kurama never expected Hiei to show up. He shouldn't have. When his mother had asked why Hiei hadn't come, he had replied quite easily that Hiei was never one for parties.

But some minuscule, absurd part of him had hoped...

Kurama fell to sleep with that same small, aching hope.

Morning came too soon. The light was too bright, the sheets too warm, and when he rolled out of bed, the wood was cold on his feet. Rubbing sleep from his eyes and pulling knots from his hair, Kurama sleepwalked through his morning routine with no vigor, that same empty aching in the pit of his stomach.

As he returned to his room, planning on getting dressed in his most comfortable clothes for the weekend, he looked habitually towards the slippers he left eternally by his door. And stopped.

Sitting in glory next to the ratty old pair of slippers was a pair he had never seen before. Deep emerald green and made of thick, warm material, they looked perfect in size for him. They waited unexpectedly by the door, as if waiting to be worn.

Slowly, too slowly, he picked them up. Embroidered into the top using shimmering crimson thread that looked nearly the same shade as his hair were two roses, beautiful, perfect. Kurama ran his fingers over the thread, throat tight and struck dumb. It would have taken hours, days, for anyone to make, even the most skilled.

The stupor broke when his mother tapped on his door, which was cracked, and then pushed it open.

"Shuuichi?" She paused and, instead of continuing on with whatever she had originally been intending to say, she asked, "Oh? What do you have there?" Her eyes were glittering.

Kurama slowly looked up.

"Kaasan? Did you make these?" His voice sounded odd to him, and the knot in his throat wouldn't leave.

Smugness. It was in every smile line on his mothers face.

"Not me," was her only reply before she turned and started back down the stairs. She called over her shoulder as she did so, positively glowing, "Oh, and you have a friend here to see you."

Numb and with slippers still in hand, Kurama floated down the stairs and into the living room, where he stopped short.

"Hiei?" Absolute shock.

Standing in his doorway like a normal human, Hiei had his hands shoved into his pockets and staring smoldering into green eyes. And for the first time that he could remember, Kurama stumbled over his words.

"Wh-What are you...?" Since when did Hiei come by in the mornings, and through the front door like a human no less?

Ruby eyes, quite serious. Kurama wasn't sure he could look away.

"Hn. Check the soles, Fox."

Bemused for a moment, the world and all its secrets suddenly seemed to crash land in Kurama's skull. Eyes constantly widening, he slowly turned over the slippers to stair at the bottom.

Embroidered into the textured white bottoms of the slippers were two twin black dragons done in shimmering obsidian thread. Kurama choked and all thought rushed out one ear. Eloquence abandoned him as well

"Y-You...?" Kurama lifted his head to stare at Hiei as if he had grown a second head. Blinked.

Turning his head to the side to stare out the window, Hiei jerkily stalked forward at a human pace and quite neatly levered him around and planted Kurama on a couch.

"Stupid Fox," he saids as he took the slippers and, shocking Kurama further, knelt to slip them on to his feet. He refused to meet his eyes. Why? "You're supposed to wear them, not carry them around like an idiot."

Hiei shot up once more, arms crossed and... was Kurama seeing right?

"Hiei, I didn't know you could sew." He decided not to mention it.

"Hn. Your mother taught me."

More shock. His mother? Hiei? What in the world was going on?

"I-I... thank you! Hiei, this must have taken you days to do!" Kurama lifted his feet, still sitting on the couch, to examine the slippers. Slowly, he lifted his gaze again. "Why did you...?" He trailed off.

Hiei's head snapped to the side to stare furiously out the window, and he crossed his arms in a distinctly defensive position.

"Demons don't have hearts."

Kurama stopped short in standing and instead sat blinking at the hi-youkai. Glancing over, Hiei flicked his eyes to stare at the floor this time. Kurama, though, couldn't pull his eyes away from his companion. What seemed so different about this small person that he couldn't seem to look away?

"You said your human mother poured her heart into making your other slippers." He paused, as if searching for words. "Demons don't have hearts, but..." He flexed his hands into fists and Kurama noticed bandages wrapped around his fingertips. He would have smiled if he weren't so confused.

"But I spent months threading those blasted human needles and stabbing myself in the fingers because I didn't understand you and your damned human emotions!" Kurama jumped as Hiei all but burst forth with a deep frown and a glare. "And I still don't and... and so you damn well better like them!"

Accusing eyes.

Slowly, a smile grew on Kurama's face until he felt his cheeks would split. And he realized quite suddenly why he couldn't seem to look away from Hiei's face.

Hiei was blushing. His face was lit up a delicate pale pink and his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and embarrassment and frustration, and it was more emotion than he could ever recall seeing there before. And Kurama knew that Hiei knew why he had made the slippers, he just couldn't put it the words.

And that was fine. Because Kurama understood.

"Thank you, Hiei," Kurama said softly. Hiei glanced up from the floor and flushed scarlet. Looked away. "They're wonderful. And I'm glad you poured _your_ heart into making them."

Hiei cocked his head just vaguely to the side, distracted from his embarrassment for at least a moment as Kurama stood.

"Demons don't have hearts."

Whatever else he had been planning to say after that, if anything at all, died at the vice of his lips as Kurama quite slowly pulled his closest friend into an embrace. Hiei's eyes went large as dinner plates.

"This one does."

**Author's Note:** That was always sweet enough to cause mental cavities, wasn't it? Gods, I don't know what got in to me. I usually hate fluff, and I DO hate myself for that ending. But I was feeling giggly and fluff-like, so there. Reviews are nice, please no flames. If you don't like yaoi, then please just go away. I'm not an obsessed fangirl for sure, but Kurama and Hiei is just plain cute to me and their personalities just mesh.

Thank you for reading anyway!

Humbly yours,

Clementine


End file.
